Nightmare
by Ruler of Destiny
Summary: Shizuku has never backed down from a problem before, but this? This is something she isn't sure she will ever be able to face.


Smell. Sight. Taste. Hearing. Touch.

Those sensations, they did not exist here in this eternal darkness. Nothing did.

She had no thoughts, no emotions. She couldn't even say that she had a body. She could only exist here in this infinite void; unthinking, unfeeling, uncaring.

Somewhere far off, a single light blinked. Weak at first, then brightening into a tiny circle of light. It was so small in this vastness, a single star amongst the limitless sky, and yet her attention was drawn to it. Slowly, so slowly it escaped her notice, more pinpricks were born. Red, blue, green, purple, yellow, brown, pink, orange, and every color in between painted the formerly blank world.

It should have been calming. Inspiring, even. However, these lights were not soft and pleasant. They were harsh, with sharp edges, and as she took in these colorful intruders emotions started to take root. One in particular stood out.

_Fear_.

It began as apprehension. These were new things after all, and sometimes new things were bad. Her old world had been fine. There had been no peace there, but there had been no pain either. Just her. Safe. She had no need for these lights or these emotions. What purpose did they serve?

_Happiness_.

She felt it more than heard it, and it was accompanied by a small twinge.

_Sadness_.

Another small prick.

_Joy__._

_Envy__._

More emotions resounded in her head, each accompanied by that same stab of pain. With each emotion, each sting, she became more and more aware. Her mind started wondering and questioning, remembering the shape of her body, remembering how to _move _it.

_Adoration__._

_Greed__._

She ran. She didn't even think about running, only knew that she had to. Those wounds, those emotions, they all had grown too painful.

_Excitement__._

_Annoyance__._

She ran and ran and ran, but it was futile. Her position never changed. The lights never shifted. She never stopped, though, even as it became difficult to breathe, her legs started to slow, and true fear started to set in.

_Forgiveness__._

_Lust__._

Fear kept her going. She stumbled. She got back up. Somehow blood was running down her legs, down her arms. Had she been cut? It was impossible. There was nothing in this place. Nothing but colors and blackness and her. She had no visible wounds, yet she was bleeding.

_Peace__._

_Anger__._

The colors. They _were _changing. They were getting closer. She could sense it. With every step they moved just a bit more, glacially slow but moving all the same. With each emotion certain lights shined, and then she felt pain. Were they stabbing her? It was so hard to tell. They didn't move, but she _knew _that they were hurting her. They were so far away, and yet she felt as though she were running through them, through shards of glass and needles.

_Affection__._

_Pain__._

On and on it went. Repeating endlessly, the pain growing greater with each new emotion, each step. Eventually she stopped caring about whether or not the lights were hurting her. She kept running, kept stumbling, ignoring the bleeding. The lights grew brighter as she bled, feeding off her pain. They became so bright that not a single trace of the blackness was left except for the memory of it. She hoarded that memory desperately, determined to cling to that last trace of peace she had left.

_Reverence__._

_Rage__._

She refused to cry out, unwilling to give the lights the satisfaction. Besides, she wasn't sure she _could__. _All of her remaining energy was dedicated to running and wishing for blackness, and even that energy was nearly exhausted. She stumbled again, her blood leaving red smears on top of the colors, a shade of red all its own amongst the thousands of colors that had infected her world. There was no trail behind her to show any sign of progress, only a great circle of blood slowly growing around her. In the end, she really hadn't been moving. The blood she stood puddled at her feet was proof of that. Disheartened, she closed her eyes, desperate to find any way to revive her black painless world.

It didn't work.

_Compassion__._

_Pity__._

Gritting her teeth to hold back the tears, the pain, the fear and rage at her helplessness growing within her, she lurched up to run again, and found herself gasping as she instead tackling the first tangible thing she'd encountered in this world.

_Pleasure__._

_Hate__._

Her body and brain came to a complete stop, shutting down at the suddenness of this new sensation. The pain was still there, the colors still there, but what was this that was holding her? She saw nothing, but she _felt _it. She blinked, trying to make sense of it all. The colors grew so intense that their borders merged into a near-white haze, but they held their strike as the emotions that had been replaying through her mind left her.

No.

They hadn't left.

They were _waiting_.

Dread welled up in her, and sheer panic screamed within her to run, run fast and far and just _run __and __never __stop _because something _terrible _was going to happen and when it did, she would cease to know anything but soul crushing agony.

But she couldn't, because these arms holding on to her; these achingly and painfully familiar arms, were keeping her in place. Yes, she knew what this obstacle was. These arms, forceful and strong, holding her against a body that knew no defeat, a body that never gave in. The hair brushing against her face, the slim neck on which her forehead rested, the shoulders, breasts, stomach, thighs crushed against hers, she knew them all.

But it couldn't be the same person because for all the familiarity, there was no warmth in this implacable, cold, and unyielding body. The hands were like manacles, and the fingernails were claws digging into her arms. She felt blood running down her face where the razor sharp strands of hair touched her. It pooled at her chin, dripping onto the neck of the creature beneath her.

Her mind fought against her chains, against this iron being that had trapped her, but her body refused to move. She couldn't say if it was exhaustion, or simply a powerful desire that this being were instead the person she had thought it was. The distinction became irrelevant as the being shifted to wrap its arms around her in a faux hug, a single hand dragging its way up her back to tangle in her hair and tilt her head back. She couldn't move, couldn't fight back. The body she had run so hard refused to respond to her even as pain disguised as lips met her neck, making its way to her jaw, lingering at every sensitive spot.

She whimpered, the pain finally getting the best of her, and the thing hummed. She felt the vibrations spread throughout her body, inciting the all the pain she'd done her best to ignore. The second whimper she let out made the thing hold on stronger_, _and the pain intensified as the lips traveled along her jaw line.

"Please don't_._"

The voice was weak, harsh, begging, and _hers_. She hadn't thought she was capable of speaking, hadn't known that she was going to, but the effort was for naught as the words were swallowed by the lights. The pain ringed within them fueled the colors, and her fleeting hope was crushed.

The being gave a small arrogantly amused laugh, condescension toward this weak struggling creature quite clear in its tone. She felt lips meet her ear, rest against it for an immeasurable amount of time, then curl into a cruel smirk.

"_Love__._"

And then her world exploded.

Shizuku shot up and nearly out of her bed, gasping through the remnants of imagined pain and the very real tears that streamed down her face. Her room was dark, but the colors that lingered in her vision brought the dream panic to a head, and she scrambled to turn her lamp on. The sudden light stung, but the pain was overwhelmed by the relief brought from the disappearance of the tiny spots of color born of the dark.

She brought her head to her knees, cradling it as she fought through the horror and pain that lingered still, not daring to close her eyes for fear of seeing those colors once again. She wasn't sure how long she sat there for, fighting to get herself under control. Once she leveled out her breathing, put a lid on her panic, wrestled her fear, and soothed away the phantom pain, she flopped back down on the bed. It was still dark out, she noticed, and her alarm clock announced that it was 1:17 AM in bright neon blue numbers, blinking incessantly to make her aware that the power had gone out at some point while she had been asleep.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes, winced at the resultant stab of paranoia and fear, and soon arrived at the conclusion that sleep would not be visiting again tonight. She stood gingerly, half expecting her legs to collapse beneath her. To her surprise, they merely wobbled for a second before steadying. They still felt weak and shaky, but it was enough. Nearly all the remnants of panic melted as her body happily let her know that it was in one piece and in decent working condition.

Stumbling toward the door, she regained the rest of her awareness by smacking her thigh against the desk corner painfully. The subsequent trek to the kitchen for tea was made with much more care. The dream was shoved successfully aside long enough to warm up the water before it floated back to the forefront of her mind. How could she _not _think about it when merely closing her eyes brought back the panic? When the sight of red brought back the pain? When silence brought back the terror?

When Hitsugi found her several hours later she was staring at the tv blankly with a third cup of tea nestled precariously in her hands, and a blanket covering the rest of her. Whatever her expression revealed, it was enough to ward off any questions into the matter in spite of the curiosity shining in the other girl's eyes.

It was hard getting through the day trying not to flinch whenever a rush of colors caught her attention, or something bright flashed at the edge of her vision, or Hitsugi got too close to her. By the time she was allowed to bury herself under the covers, she was physically and mentally exhausted. In the dark, it would be impossible to escape the memories of the dream. Her heart raced, her throat dried, and her body trembled with fear. She lay there with the light on, internally chanting that she had nothing to fear, and eventually slipped into a fitful slumber.

_Love_

Again, the dream came. Again, she woke up with terror, panic, and pain taking over her mind. Again, she spent the rest of the night trying to tell herself that it was _just __a __dream_. Again, Hitsugi found her sitting on the couch in the morning, tea in her hands and the television on low.

She tried to convince herself that she was overreacting. That she had nothing to fear. That the dream couldn't hurt her.

It wasn't working.

"Are you alright, Miyamoto-san?" A worried Kotake Rina was holding a cup of coffee out to her. She had taken to haunting the staff room once it became clear to her that working near Hitsugi was having negative effects on her already fractured mental state.

Taking the cup gratefully, she sighed. She could see the judge leader's concern mirrored in the eyes of the other staff members. She knew that they wouldn't think less of her for admitting to a problem. They had all come a long way from those first tumultuous years of the hoshitori. "I. I haven't been sleeping well, is all."

Understanding crossed the judge's eyes. "Have you talked to Her about it?" The reluctance with which she mentioned "Her" made most of the other staff members laugh. The head nurse's continual attempts to warm the younger woman up to her were a source of great amusement amongst the older teachers.

She shook her head. "I figured it would solve itself, eventually." It was left unmentioned that she really only ventured into the nurse's office when on the verge of death or when escorting a student there.

"Well, She has pills if you're having trouble sleeping. Just as long as you're careful and don't take them during the day like Takada-san did, and you shouldn't have any trouble." The teacher in question glared at Rina while the others laughed. Good natured teasing about the eternally sleepy Takada Kari's famous incident began, and the friendly atmosphere Shizuku relished calmed her mind.

When she reluctantly asked Ai for the mentioned sleeping pills, the woman all but dragged her over to the cabinet, mumbling how it was about damned time, and proceeded to tell her how many she should take and for how long and that she doubted anyone that skinny and short needed too high a dosage. Shizuku huffed at that last one, but left the nurse's office in good cheer for once.

The pills helped. Mostly. She took just enough of a dosage to lull her to sleep. The dream was still there, the colors haunting the edges of her sleep, but it became blurred and dulled. Without seeing it every night her focus was restored enough to put up a convincing front of normalcy.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Every time she tried to sleep without taking them, it came back with all the intensity of the first time. She hated having to rely on pills to solve her problems, hated being so helpless, and three weeks of that frustration and exhaustion and fear mounting drove her down. She wanted, _needed_ to burn out these emotions that refused to leave her. The third time she woke from the dream, the third time she had tried to sleep without the pills, she changed her method.

Face still wet from her tears, she stripped off her pajamas and threw on shorts and a tank top. Instead of making her normal cup of tea she went straight to the training room and grabbed her bokken, immediately setting herself to kata practice, trying to lose herself in movement. Soon her swords and her self faded into a blur as she pushed herself to go faster and faster.

It was worse than ineffective. With every swing she remembered the battles she had fought, the battles she had won, the battles she had _lost_. She had only ever taken up the sword for Hitsugi, had only ever drawn it for her sake and hers alone. She remembered the long hours spent practicing and sparring, the bruises and callouses and pain she had endured, been _proud __of__, _for Hitsugi. It hadn't mattered that swordplay had never been her strong suit, so long as Hitsugi was happy.

Hitsugi. Smiling, teasing, childish Hitsugi. Distant, pained, determined Hitsugi. Hitsugi, Iron-willed, never giving up, never looking back. Cold, empty, cruel Hitsugi whose touch brought pain and voice destroyed her world with a single word.

The clattering of a sword brought her back to reality. Right. She wasn't dreaming. She was in the practice room. Shizuku stared at the sword she had dropped, emotions bubbling up inside her. She would find no comfort here. The swords she had taken up were meant for the hoshitori, for Hitsugi, but never for _herself_.

Putting the swords away, she walked outside feeling lost and empty. The sky was lighter, barely coming into false dawn, the world on the verge of waking. The calm soothed her mind, and she allowed her body to wander as it willed. Before she knew it her feet had carried her to the gym used for guard practice.

Even though the sun wasn't up yet, she could hear the sounds of training emitting from the hall. That was to be expected. The Amachi family employed the best, and the best shunned things like conventional hours and sleep.

Peeking inside, she wasn't surprised to see her favorite guard, Jodo, being tossed across the mat by a wildly amused guard captain. The gym was mostly empty, with only a few other veteran guards milling around. The movement of the door caught their attention, and the captain had pinned her with her gaze before Jodo hit the floor.

"Well now. Isn't this a rare sight?" The captain looked pleased to see her, which was always a bad sign, and she saw the others who were capable of moving salute her with pity as she made her way to the mat. "You look frustrated kid. How about I help you release some of that pent up energy?"

"Okay." She smiled at Jodo's whimpered good luck and took his place. Breathing in, she took her stance and faced the captain.

At first she fought with _herself_, trying to keep her frustration and anger under control. She had never had this problem before, not to this extent, and the desire to hurt and be hurt was nearly overpowering. She just wanted to release her anger, but her inability to actually hit the captain was only fueling it. The anger was giving her a real energy boost, but it was making her sloppy.

Another punch slid around her guard with ease, and her vision went blurry with pain. Her thought processes halted, and her instincts kicked in. Her body moved on its own, blocking the next kick and responding with one of its own, and for a precious second all thoughts of the nightmare were gone.

The revelation was so startling that she froze while the captain recovered. That was what she had been looking for. A distraction. A reprieve.

Backing away from the captain she let out a huge breath and took the time to shake out her limbs. She stopped caring about the pain, or the fear, or the panic, or the frustration, or any of the other emotions that were causing her problems, and ruthlessly shoved them away.

"Done playing?" The captain looked eager.

"Yes. Sorry." She _was _sorry. One of the first things the guards learned was that they were here to protect the Amachi family come hell or high water, and weakness could mean death. Of themselves, and of others. This was no hoshitori, and there were no stars. The penalties for losing here were much, much worse than a simple loss of points.

"Happens to the best of us. Now, let's fight."

Her emotions gone, she focused on one thing only: Fighting. She didn't need anger; she didn't need fear; she didn't even need happiness. With every punch, every kick, she drained them out of her until the only things left were the two things an Amachi guard needed: the desire to protect, and the need to be strong.

She lost horribly. Once she managed to get another kick past the captain's guard, she had become excited. The fight ended not long after. She didn't care. Winning had never been the point of the match.

When she finally showed up for breakfast, she noticed that Hitsugi had to almost physically wrestle down her curiosity. Her friend quickly got herself under control, a raised eyebrow the sole sign of her interest. It left no doubt in Shizuku's mind that Hitsugi was keeping silent only because she was aware that Shizuku would need to bring this up herself, not because she was _unaware_ of the sleepless nights plaguing her shinyuu.

Thus, that became her routine. She would wake up at an ungodly hour, heart in her throat and fear racing through her veins, calm herself down, grab a snack, and then train with the guards until she was either knocked out or it was time for breakfast. The upside was that she found it easier to get through the day, and she found herself able to sleep for an extra hour or two every night. The downside was that guard training was rough. The worried looks about her previous mental state were transformed into worried looks about her constant beat-up state.

Well, except for Uryuu-san, who told her to make sure to eat more to account for the extra physical work and then slapped a bandage on whatever wound had reopened. Literally. The student nurse on duty at the time had looked even less amused than she had.

Hitsugi, for her part, took to watching her constantly. Even with her improved mentality it was hard not to flinch every so often at bright colors or to remember that Hitsugi would never willingly choose to hurt her. Her lapses went mostly unnoticed, though she did garner some curious looks from Inori Sae on her worst days.

One morning, a cup of hot tea was waiting for her when she finally calmed down enough to venture out. She had stood there for nearly an entire minute, staring at the innocuous cup in confusion, her exhausted brain slow to comprehend this new change to her routine. Every night after that she found a cup of tea warm and ready for her. She never heard anyone move around the house, but she acknowledged that after waking she was in no condition to notice anyway.

Settling herself on the couch, Shizuku had to admit that if anything good came out of this, it was the steady improvement of her combat skills in guard training. While she had kept herself in shape and made sure to keep her sword skills honed, she had become less dedicated as battles became rarer. She always had work to do, and her abilities, while high, had stagnated. Now she was in better physical shape than ever.

She couldn't say that her _sword __skills_ were improving with guard training. That kind of training was...ill-suited for the type of fighting that the hoshitori required. Fighting for stars and fighting to put an opponent permanently out of commission were two different worlds all together. She would never be able to put these abilities to use with her swords. The guard motto was "if you don't knock them out in one hit, you need more training." Knocking out _students_ was somewhat frowned upon, even by most at Tenchi.

"Shizuku. Are you done with training for the day?" Hitsugi appeared from the hallway, startling her enough to nearly make her drop her cup. Her friend was dressed in a skirt and a light sweater, her basic home outfit. She had always preferred Hitsugi's casual clothes instead of the school uniform, and the sight never failed to make her heart jump.

She coughed a little, putting her cup down to avoid further trouble. "Yes. The captain decided to end training at lunch today." It had been a relief when the captain had announced that. The extra morning training sessions were taking a toll on her body, and joining the regular training today had bordered on torture.

Hitsugi hummed and sat down on the other side of the couch, facing her cautiously. The flinching had obviously not gone unnoticed these past few weeks. She tried not keep herself under control now, a task made more difficult by the current situation. She had decided to make her home on the shorter couch, which meant that less than a foot of space separated her from the object of her nightmares. Desperate to look anywhere but directly at her shinyuu, lest her momentary panic show, she finally noticed the blanket in her friend's hand.

Hitsugi cut off whatever she wanted to say with a stern repeating of her name. Unconsciously cringing, she forced herself to meet the other girl's eyes. No amount of fear was enough to stifle her instinct to obey that voice. Hitsugi was rarely ever so serious, and that she was now meant that her patience with Shizuku had reached its limit.

"Come here," she ordered.

Baffled and more frightened than she had any reason to be, she hesitated. Unsure of what her friend wanted here, she looked at her helplessly.

"Scoot," was the sole clarification. Dismay coursed through her, but she did as ordered. Embarrassment and fear fought busily for the position of most dominant emotion. Annoyed with the slow pace, Hitsugi pulled her into her lap and twisted so that she could lay down, Shizuku on top of her. While the younger girl turned a furious shade of red and struggled to determine if she wanted to run or shut off her brain, she threw the blanket over them both, made herself comfortable, positioned her friend so that her head rested nicely on her shoulder, then wrapped her arms around Shizuku and waited for her reaction.

Embarrassment it was. "Hitsugi-s-"

"Hush."

Shizuku clicked her mouth shut obediently, frozen at the abrupt order. One of the arms around her loosened, and she felt a hand lightly trail up to her neck. Embarrassment gave way to panic as her mind flashed back to the nightmare. Her breath stopped, and she went rigid in expectation of the pain that invariably followed. Escape didn't even cross her mind. She had lived through that nightmare too many times, been helpless too many times, to even consider that she _could _escape. She could only cringe and wait for the pain.

It didn't come. The hand didn't tangle itself in her hair. It merely pushed her head down so that she could rest against her friend's shoulder, and then returned to its former position around her waist. Confusion set in as her mind fought through the panic to realize that the body beneath hers wasn't cold, unnatural steel. It was warm, and soft, and she could feel the muscles hardened from long hours of training under her hands. There was no blood. The only pain was from sore muscles.

Most importantly, there were no _colors_. Nothing except the light brown of Hitsugi's sweater, the darker brown of her hair, and her pale skin.

"You've been having nightmares."

Her voice was softer and kinder than the one in her memory, the one that whispered that single word in her dreams. She could not prevent a small twitch however, and she observed the muscles in her friend's neck tense for a moment in reaction to it. She was too mesmerized by the sight to feel guilt.

"Every night."

She nodded, sensing that some sort of response was required on her part. She wasn't willing to speak, but she could manage that simple gesture.

"Are they different every night?"

She shook her head. Funny. She hadn't been too tired earlier, but suddenly all she wanted to do was lay here and drift off to sleep. Her limbs felt heavy, too heavy to move.

"The same then. Will you tell me about it?"

Her body tensed up as a brief fear cut through her sudden lethargy. The arms around her shifted.

"Alright, alright. You do not have to."

She relaxed again, relieved.

"You whimper. In your sleep."

She buried her head into Hitsugi's shoulder, trying not to think about the pain, and when in the dream she would give in to it. It was always the same, and it was too similar to her current position for comfort.

"You fear me."

Shizuku stiffened in her friend's arms, and it was all the confirmation that the older girl needed. She watched the muscles in that slim neck and jaw tighten for longer than either of them was comfortable with, unfamiliar frustration leaving Hitsugi speechless. After a time, she sighed forcefully.

"Do you honestly believe that I would ever willingly hurt you?" Hitsugi couldn't hide the pain and guilt in her voice. Guilt for what, Shizuku didn't know, but she still felt horrible. She had hurt her friend, and even though she couldn't help her reactions, she still hated herself for it.

"I'm sorry." she whispered. She felt sick with guilt, a sense of having betrayed her friend with her unfaithfulness choking her. She wanted to curl up in a ball and block everything out, yearned for that oblivion with which her dreams began. She felt unworthy of the level of concern that drove Hitsugi to this.

"Idiot. I'm not mad at you." Hitsugi tightened her hold. To her surprise, she felt comfort instead of pain with the change. "I won't ask why, and I won't pressure you about it. I have faith in you."

Shizuku felt the ball of pain and fear loosen in chest, even as she fought tears. Why? Why couldn't she have that same faith? Why was she so scared of Hitsugi? She had known her for years, had stood at her side every single day of them. She knew that Hitsugi would never hurt her. So why? Why was she letting a single persistent nightmare push away her best friend? Her partner? The one person she depended on the most? She knew the answer. She had only to think of her nightmare to know the truth.

"I love you." Against the fabric of the designer sweater her words were lost, turned into an unintelligible mutter whose meaning could only be guessed at.

"Shizuku?" Courage gone, she shook her head quickly and buried it back into the other girl's neck, refusing to repeat herself no matter how gentle Hitsugi's voice was. She couldn't do it, didn't have the strength to initiate what she knew would be the greatest, or worst, change of her life.

Hitsugi sighed and gave up any hope of a response. "Idiot." she said again, shaking her head. Without warning she kissed Shizuku softly on the cheek, lingering for far, far longer than could be considered friendly. "Go to sleep."

She didn't want to. Part of her mind was frantically trying to sort itself out as it shook out the shock of the kiss, wanted to dwell over it and work out the emotions behind it. That desire was slowly beaten out by exhaustion. She could think and hope later. Now, right now, she wanted only to soak in the warmth and comfort her friend was offering, and sink into her first dreamless sleep since the nightmare began.

**~End~**

**It's depressing, I know. Too depressing for THHE, so it gets its own post. (If anyone wants to toss an idea at me for THHE and see what it warps to, please do.) This was teeeeechnically written several months ago, and was then promptly forgotten due to work and life in general. Whoops. Thank the unnamed betas I asked (begged, forced bribed) to look over this for me. It wouldn't be in such good shape if they hadn't. Assuming FFN hasn't mashed more of my words together. Really annoying, that.**


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